All Magic Comes With A Price
by brokensmolder
Summary: When Sam and Dean find out that their dad investigated a mysterious/nonexistent town called Storybrooke, ME in 1984 and considered the case cold, they decide to check it out for themselves. Little do they know, their lives are more tangled up in that town than anyone could realize, even before they ever step foot there. (SPN: post 6x21. OUAT: post 2x17.) co-writer: TheDisnerd
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One  
Witness Protection: Enchanted Forest Edition**

It was almost too easy, really.

In all the chaos and excitement happening, how much simpler could escaping Lucifer get? Come on, Gabriel really had expected more from his older brother. How had he not seen the doppleganging coming?

As he left the Fake Gabe to die in his place (he personally thought the burnt wings to 'prove' his death was a stroke of genius), he decided to skedaddle on out of there and to a place where no one from that world would ever think to look for him.

Taking a deep breath and savoring the piney aroma, Gabriel began to walk through the forest in which he appeared. This world was destined for greatness, he could tell. The Enchanted Forest could prove to be an amazing new hideout for him. The next, more extreme stage of his own personal witness protection.

_Speaking of which,_ he thought_, I should change my clothes. Can't be standing out, now._

And with a snap of his fingers, his jacket, t-shirt, and jeans were replaced by a white button-down shirt, a brown leather vest, a purple velvet cloak, and brown pants. His sneakers were replaced with brown leather boots.

"Now that's what I call 'peasantry with style!'" He said to himself as he straightened his clothes.

He continued on through the woods with a new spring in his step, his new duds making him feel well camouflaged and just a tad bit more protected. A distant noise made him pause mid-step as he crossed over a fallen young tree, something sounding much like a yell of frustration from a woman. Perhaps it was just a domestic spat with a drunken husband, or maybe it could be anger at a stubborn mule. Whatever the case may be, and it could be any number of things, curiosity got the better of Gabriel. He hoped it wouldn't kill the cat in this circumstance.

Rushing over to where he heard the noise, he shouted, "Despair not, fair maiden, for I shall come to thy rescue!" _That was definitely a bit much_, Gabriel mumbled inwardly.

A woman stood in a clearing, struggling with an axe and a pile of wood, but she turned at the sound of Gabriel trodding into the brush behind her, a shocked look on her face. "Oh!" She cried out in a startled tone. "You frightened me, sir," she said, an embarrassed expression donning her face.

Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows and looked around, taking in the sight. The woman was clearly building a structure - a house? Gabriel guessed. "Do you... Need help?" He asked, taking a tentative step toward her.

Her shocked face turned to one of gratitude. "Oh, I would love some help, sir," she said with a smile.

* * *

The house was stacked with piles upon piles of old tomes and other research materials, most of them untouched for years, a thick layer of dust upon them, but that was perfectly okay with the men that currently resided within. That was the way it had been for almost as long as any of them could remember, so what reason did they have to go changing things? And really, the house only belonged to one of them, and it definitely was not one of the Winchester blood line.

"Git yer feet off the coffee table," Bobby Singer said, kicking Dean, the elder of the brothers Winchester, in the sole of his shoe, knocking his legs off the edge. "Ya idjit."

Dean opened his mouth to retort, as with the action of his legs falling down, he'd dropped his father's journal that he'd been perusing, but he stopped when he saw something peculiar. Rather than continue with what was sure to have been a witty and/or sarcastic comment, he bent down to where the leather bound book now lay sprawled on the floor, a corner of the cracked and faded cover slightly pulled away from the cardboard frame. Tucked up under the edge, where the Winchesters had only thought was the book's binding, was a small cluster of folded paper.

"Hey Sammy, check this out," he said, picking up the book and leaning back into the couch again, bringing the journal into his lap. As Sam came over to the couch, leaving his laptop open on the nearby table, Dean slowly began to peel back the leather.

"How did we miss that before?" Sam asked, eyebrows creased as he watched his older brother carefully working at freeing the pages.

Concentrating fiercely on the task at hand, Dean only shook his head rather than speaking, his tongue pressed between his teeth as he worked. After what seemed like a slow eternity, when it hadn't in fact been more than a minute, the pages were free from their leather prison and the journal was unceremoniously discarded on the coffee table. "Ready to see what Dad had to hide?" Dean asked, quirking an eyebrow at his brother.

"If you go any slower, I'm going to kill you," Sam said with a serious look on his face. The effect was spoiled a second later when his mouth turned into a smirk.

The paper unfolded in Dean's grasp, revealing a newspaper clipping and a couple sheets of lined paper, obviously torn from the same binder that now lay haphazardly on the table, across which was their father's untidy, yet militaristic scrawl. "Okay... 29 years ago... Blah blah blah..." Dean said as his eyes roamed the paper. "A kid says his dad goes missing in some town in Maine. But the police say the town doesn't even exist."

"Well, I sure haven't heard of Storybrooke, have you?" Sam asked, snatching up the newspaper clipping and going over to the laptop, leaving Dean with the notebook pages. He quickly typed the town's name into the search engine, and he only got many links to different tellings of the exact same story, printed in various newspapers.

"Apparently Dad tried talking to the kid, but the officials and foster care wouldn't let him, so he tried going to the source," Dean summarized from the notebook sheets. "There was nothing there, just like the papers reported. But at the edge of the forest where the kid said it was supposed to be, Dad says that he got this strange feeling not to go further in. Like the place was repelling him."

"Like a spell?" Sam asked, rejoining Dean on the couch.

"I remember John mentioning that," Bobby said, sitting in a nearby armchair with a beer in his hand. "Said he always meant to go back there, try and solve it. But for the time bein', he had to call it a cold case. Ain't no more trails to go sniffin' after." He took a swig from the bottle. "Wonder why he hid it in the journal, though?"

"Maybe he didn't want us to go digging around there for some reason," Sam offered.

"Sounds like plenty reason to head on up there then," Dean said, grabbing his car keys.

* * *

**Authors' note:**

**Hello! Thanks so much for reading this little fic that me and my brother (TheDisnerd) have been working on! It's a work in progress, of course, but we just came up with the idea yesterday, and here we have our first chapter! We have a lot in store, so we would love to hear from our readers! Reviews make us happy, and make us write faster! Also, please be patient with us, as we have very busy lives and can't really update on a regular basis/schedule. WE PROMISE GREAT THINGS TO COME! :)**

**Also, the unnecessary disclaimer: WE OWN NEITHER SUPERNATURAL OR ONCE UPON A TIME. We are just avid fans with crazy ideas.**

**Chapter Song: Immigrant Song by ****Led Zeppelin**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**The Lying, The Witch, And The Trenchcoat**

"You're sure we're goin' the right way?" Dean asked for the hundredth time, his fingers drumming the steering wheel impatiently. "Have we seen that tree before? I think we've seen that tree before."

"Dean, we haven't seen that tree, and yes, we're going the right way," Sam replied, going over the map their father had drawn on one of the notebook pages yet again just in case. "Can we turn down the radio?" He started to reach for the knob, since the Led Zepplelin was starting to get to him, but Dean grabbed it and turned it down first. Sam sighed, irritated at Dean's mollycoddling. "I could have done it myself..."

"You've got a cracked melon, I get it," dean said, glancing worriedly at his brother from the corner of his eye. "Besides, you'd have turned it down too much, and I'd have to slap you."

Sam leaned back in the passenger seat again, pouring himself back into the map and comparing it to the road map of Maine they'd picked up. He'd triple checked it twelve times ago, and he was absolutely positive they were on the right track. He rubbed his temple, the headache already subsiding. Sure, he was still recovering from his ordeal, the walls inside his head crumbling down and he had to pick up the pieces, but he was fine. Really, Dean didn't have to keep looking at him as though he was about to go apeshit and starting killing people. "Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean said with a smirk. And then he practically stood on the brakes, making the car come to a sudden stop, and Sam was thrown against his seatbelt. Thank God he'd worn the thing.

"What the hell?" He said, glaring at his brother.

"Look," Dean said, pointing at a road sign, the word "Storybrooke, 1 Mile" written on it clear as day. "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

* * *

Strange as it was to meet a woman in the woods, it was stranger still to discover that she was a witch. Gabriel had nothing against witches of this world, as they did not serve his self righteous older brother Lucifer as the ones of present-day Earth. As he helped the woman build her house, they'd gotten to talking, and she revealed things to him as though they'd known each other for years.

"I wish for children," she said as they worked, taking a rest on a stump. "I will take in lost children here, that is my plan."

Of course, Gabriel was no fool. He knew exactly what she meant by this. He was many millennia old, there was no way he could have missed the underlying agenda this woman had, especially since it was written in such detail as a fable in other worlds. But the cottage they were building here was made of wood, and that contradicted every tale ever told.

"Well, don't you think you need something to entice them with?" He asked, a sly grin on his face. He was positively giddy, how often would he get to be involved in a story as famous as this?

The woman paused, staring at her unfinished house with distaste. "I'm sure we can think of something," she said, waving her arm lazily at the house, adorning it with flowers. She frowned at the result.

"How about... This?" Gabriel said, snapping his fingers, his tone gleeful. The entire house suddenly transfigured, becoming all manner of delectable treat and candy that a child could ever hope for. The sweet toothed angel was writing history here, and no one ever even knew he had a hand in it. It was, quite possibly, one of the most thrilling moments of his life. It sure as hell beat the time he told Mary of her immaculate conception of his half-brother, Jesus.

* * *

"Welcome to Storybrooke," Dean said happily as they came into view of the old fashioned wooden welcome sign. "So, it's obviously here." He raised an eyebrow at Sam, who raised one back in return.

"Obviousl- look out!" Sam said, hands automatically grasping the car anyway he could.

At his brother's exclamation, Dean looked back to the road (he'd only glanced away, how quickly could something have appeared there?) and saw a very familiar figure standing in the middle of the street. _Castiel_. By instinct Dean swerved, and ended up running his precious Baby into the town sign he'd just been observing.

Well, that had not been Castiel's intention. He had to let them know that going beyond that point would render them invisible to him, as the entire area had basically been wiped of the map almost three decades previous. He rushed to the car, his friends now in need, and opened the drivers side door.

The boys were both unconscious, and Sam looked the worse for wear. Dean was unharmed, except perhaps a slight concussion. Cas reached his hand out and placed it to the hunter's temple, only to find his power would not heal him or awaken him. _We must be too close_, he surmised, looking up at the sign for the invisible town. He squinted his eyes in dislike at it, before teleporting to the nearest human life form he could find.

* * *

There were so many things in Neal's life that he'd done wrong; thievery, leaving Emma, been pretty much a horrible person. But the little person that hiked beside him through the woods, his son, was something that had turned out so right. He still had a hard time believing that he had a kid sometimes, since he'd only just met him, but he'd instantly fallen in love with the kid. It was difficult to not let Henry dig his way into your life.

"Are you at the age you like girls yet?" Neal asked as the two walked along, their father and son hike accompanied by lame, parental 'get to know you' questions.

Henry snorted in response. "I'm_ eleven_. I don't even have a chest hair yet." He gave his dad a grin. "But they don't have cooties."

"Yeah, yeah," Neal chuckled, ruffling Henry's hair a bit. He looked back up the hiking trail, startled to see a man in a tab trench coat a few yards away from them, seemingly out of nowhere. The man looked confused, disoriented; perhaps he was lost? And where had he come from? "Hey, buddy, you lost?" He gripped Henry subtlely, making sure that he was relatively close in case he needed to grab him and run. With his background, you never could be too cautious.

The stranger turned his startlingly blue eyes toward the pair, their gaze slightly squinting as he took them in. "I am in dire need of your assistance," he started, rather formal sounding. "My friends have been in a car accident on the main road and are unconscious."

Henry jumped out of his father's grasp and began tugging on his arm. "That's not that far! Come on, we have to help them!"

"Henry," Neal said, tugging back against his son and glancing at the newcomer. "Just a sec, we'll call Emma." He looked over the man, not sure if he should trust him. But really, what harm was there in just seeing if there actually had been an accident? It wouldn't be the first time. ...Just the second.

The stranger's face fell. "Please, I am not lying," he said, as though he knew exactly what was going through Neal's head.

Neal looked down at Henry, then sighed, pulling his cell phone from his pocket, and starting to walk in the right direction. "Hey, Emma..."

* * *

The spread laid out on the table was definitely fit for a king. Roast goose, potatoes, bacon, and then the sweets, oh my, the sweets; cakes, tarts, puddings, so many flavors. And the pies! Gabriel chuckled to himself at that one, thinking of how jealous the eldest Winchester boy would be.

He tucked in, gorging himself in Trickster fashion, on the closest cake, a delicious looking chocolate. Being an angel, he had the fortune of not getting a stomach ache from so many sugary things, and thusly continued on, to a strawberry angel food cake (giggling the entire time) and then to the pumpkin pie.

It was then that he noticed something about his over-hospitable host. The woman just sat and watched him, a sly smirk trying to hide on the corner of her lips like a secret. Not a drop of food had passed those lips the entire time, and there was enough for an army.

_That bitch._

It had taken no time at all for Gabriel to figure out what was going on. How dare she use him, after he willingly helped her build this very house! She was planning on fattening him up like one of those children she loved so much, and then cooking him like that unfortunate goose that sat on the table. He had no objection about the whole stuffing-and-eating-children thing, that was already written in fables and thus was so obviously true. But there was no way in hell she was eating him.

He began to laugh into his pie, the fork he held hanging limply between his fingers before dropping to the nearly empty pie plate with a clang. He placed his head in his hands, and his laughter grew louder, building into quite a roar of mirth. It was unsettling the witch, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat across the room. She stood and took a few steps toward him. "What do you find so funny, darling?" She asked in a tone that betrayed her concern. Concern for herself.

His attitude changed in an instant. One second he was laughing into a plate, the next he was standing, facing her, his chair clattering to the floor loudly, his eyes and expression gone harsh. "Oh, nothing," he snarled in response to her question. "Just you." His nose wrinkled in detestation. "You _dare_. You _dare_ betray me? I helped you build this place, and then you try to fatten me up like a _pig_?"

Lightning began to flash outside, a mirror of his rage. As she watched, she grew more scared, of just how powerful this man actually was. Perhaps he was the Dark One! She had no idea what she had tampered with, she should have just enjoyed normal, boring food with him, not attempted to eat him... But he looked so delicious at the time. A mistake she was sure to pay for. She could not tear her eyes away, and he was beginning to glow, his fury burning through his eyes, barely contained under his skin. She cowered, shrinking to the floor, arms wrapped around herself.

It was deafening, the sound that radiated from him, so loud that glasses that sat on the overladen table began to shatter. She covered her ears, but she could still hear the ringing. And her eyes... Her eyes began to bleed, her vision went dark, and her cries of anguish only added to the cacophony of sound screaming through the room.

And then it stopped.

The echoes of the shrieking noises still resonated in her head, and her cries had weakened to a dull, aching sob, her throat raw with pain. And her eyes... Her eyes would never see again.

She flinched when she felt someone - him - touch her shoulder, but she dared not shrink away. "You've been touched by an angel, bitch," he said, and then his footsteps faded away.

* * *

"Dean."

His head was throbbing, he did not want to open his eyes, it did not sound good. Were those sirens?

"Dean, wake up."

_Fine_, he thought, making his eyes open. Those sirens were getting closer. What was going on? His sight was blurry, but it was clearing up quickly. He was confused for a moment, not remembering what had happened, until he looked up and the Storybrooke sign came into focus.

Grabbing onto the nearest person, who he was pretty sure was Cas at this point, Dean pulled himself unsteadily from the car as the ambulance - the blasted sirens - arrived at the scene. He blinked a lot, his vision still not perfect yet, and before he knew it he was being ushered over to the ambulance to be checked out. "Don't bother, I'm fine, I've had worse than a friggin' concussion before, this is cake," he protested to the paramedic.

His eyes raked over the scene, since he was being forced to sit still he might as well make sure he knew the surroundings. Cas stood nearby, looking even more confused than usual, and nearby him, closer to the ambulance than his Baby, was a cluster of people. A blonde woman in a red leather jacket (whose bottom he took a split second to appreciate) facing the car and thusly he could not see her face, a guy around his own age, and a kid, looking at the scene with concern. Besides them, there were just the paramedics, now trying to get Sammy out of the Impala.

Dean clenched his jaw a few times in frustration. This was not how their town entrance was supposed to go. Then again, the town was also supposed to have been much more difficult to find.

Continuing to watch the people, he decided to study the trio that stood a few yards away. The kid obviously belonged to the man, the way his hand was perched on the boy's shoulder so protectively. He couldn't read the woman's face, since she faced the opposite direction, but her pose, hands on her hips, so clearly mapping out the scene in her head as she scanned the area, screamed out 'authority'. Probably police.

Cas was still just staring at the car, looking at it solemnly. "Cas," Dean called out, ignoring the paramedic that bothered him with blankets and flashing a flashlight in his eyes. "What the hell?"

Cas approached, his eyes seemingly stuck in a permanent squint. "I am sorry I made you crash," he said, tactfully low so that the paramedic would not overhear. Hey, he'd actually learned something useful. "I just needed to warn you that this area is virtually invisible to us," he continued, "us" being the heavenly host. "This place has magic that is foreign to this world. It is cloaked and tampers with my 'mojo.'"

"Cas, why do you think we're here?" Dean asked, working hard to keep the growl from his voice.

"I had assumed you were lost."

The hunter gave him a bitch-face, then sighed. "We're on a case, Sherlock."

"I do not like it here," Cas said, looking around with his ever-narrowed eyes. "My power is not at it's fullest, the magic is definitely making me unable to heal you. And I could not identify who I was traveling toward when 'teleporting.'" He made air quites as he looked back to Dean. "I need to investigate as well."

"Cas, stay here for now-" Dean started, but was cut off by the paramedic that was babying him standing in between the hunter and angel. Once again, the man started double checking Dean's head for further injury. "Dude, come on, it's a friggin' concussion, not the end of the world." He pushed the guy to the side to finish his sentence for Cas, but the angel had already vanished. "Son of a bitch," he growled, crossing his arms moodily.

Sammy was being loaded onto a gurney, and finally Dean got some peace as his own personal paramedic buddy left him alone. The solitude only lasted for a moment before the happy trio he'd been watching minutes earlier approached him. "Howdy, Sheriff," he said, quickly taking note of the badge on the woman's belt. He raised an eyebrow and put on his best flirtatious smile; charming the ladies was usually the easiest thing for him. This sheriff was not one of the usuals.

"Howdy," she replied, the word full of sarcasm.

The kid looked up at her hopefully, and at just a glance from her, he turned and smiled at Dean. "Are you okay, mister? Your weird friend found us on a hike and we called my mom for help."

He couldn't help but grin; though you wouldn't know it by looking at the tough exterior of the hunter, Dean had a soft spot for kids. "Well, I definitely appreciate it, kid. I'm sure my brother will too, when he wakes up."

"Alright, come on, Henry," the man said, ushering his son away. Henry, the kid, frowned, but allowed himself to be steered away.

Dean turned his attention back to the sheriff. "Mom?" he asked, an eyebrow quirks in question. "You don't look old enough to have a kid his age."

She replied with a dry, fake chuckle. "Yeah, well..." She shrugged, then crossed her arms across her chest. "Is it okay if I ask you a few questions?"

Great, the procedural police rhetoric. "Go ahead, shoot."

"What were you and your boyfriend there," she motioned to the gurney that was now rolling their way, "doing to make you crash?"

_Why do people always assume_...? "That's my brother," he nearly growled.

A smirk crossed the sheriff's lips. "Sorry." The turn of her lips vanished. "Okay, you and your brother. And the other guy-" She stopped, realizing she had no idea where Castiel had gone. "-wherever he went." Her eyebrows furrowed.

Dean opened his mouth, preparing a lie on the spot, but they were ushered out of the way by the paramedics as they wheeled Sam into the ambulance behind Dean. "Excuse us," one of them had the decency to say.

"Look, we need to get my brother to the hospital, so can we finish this up later?" Dean asked, climbing into the back of the vehicle and hunkering down next to the gurney.

"You can count on it," the sheriff said, and then the doors were closed between them.

* * *

**Authors' note: hello again! We hope you're enjoying our little crack baby here! Less than a week to post a new chapter that's twice as long as the first! I'd say that's good progress!**

**Thank you to everyone who has read and followed -we've had over 100 hits! Please leave a review if you've enjoyed, or even to give us som constructive criticism! We love reviews!**

**Not Surprising Disclaimer: WE OWN NEITHER SUPERNATURAL NOR ONCE UPON A TIME.**

**Chapter Song: It's Not Me It's You by Skillet **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**The Dark One**

The candy cottage was left behind, Gabriel getting out of Dodge as quickly as possible, angelically invisible, a relatively light spring in his step. He had made history. Or mythology. Or whatever it was. Sure, he'd hit a snag along the way, but nothing comes without a catch.

He had walked for maybe five miles, the sun sinking further and further into the dark, when he heard what sounded like a twig snapping. Gabriel turned to face the sound, waiting to see who or what had made the noise. He stood staring for a minute, maybe two.

"Looking for something, dearie?" asked a voice from behind him. Turning, he saw a man in dress similar to his, but made of red and of a much finer material. His hands, which he held out in a flourish, had long, dark nails, much like claws.

Never before had someone been able to sneak behind him, and this was deeply unsettling to the angel. Just from being near him, Gabriel could feel the man's power. He was not sure who this man was, as his arch-angelic powers did not seem to work at full capacity here in this world. "Looking? Nah, just... wandering," he replied, eyeing the newcomer warily.

"Ah, I see," the man replied, his mouth curled upward into a wicked grin. "So you _weren't_ just turning about, trying to see what made the noise, hm?" He put his fingers together, the very picture of a stereotypical Hollywood villain. "Wandering, however, seems to have led you straight to me, dearie." He bowed to Gabriel, almost sarcastically. "Coincidentally, in case you hadn't figured it out, my fine, feathered friend, I am the thing you heard go _bump_ in the night."

A shiver ran down Gabriel's spine, which was impressive, considering his angelic status. His blood ran cold when he realized this scale-skinned stranger had said "feathered." "Excuse me?" He said, squinting at the foreign man in astonishment. "What did you just say?"

An indescribable laugh echoed in the woods, the man in red taking a step as he spoke. "Ah- ya heard me, halo boy," he said with apparent glee. He turned his hand with a flourish, setting a ball of fire ablaze in his palm, before throwing it at the forest floor. A carefully laid firepit was suddenly there, as though it was there in the first place, although it had not been.

Gabriel laughed humorlessly. "Nice parlor trick," he said, crossing his arms and glaring at the powerful, dark person across the flames.

The glow of the fire raging between them cast shadows on the surrounding trees, one form with large, black wings protruding from it, and one without. "Of course I can see your true nature," the strange man bragged, taking slow steps around the fire nearer to Gabriel. The angel did not move. "I am the Dark One! Your heavenly magicks are, well..." He was standing near to Gabriel now, and he grinned his grimy teeth at him. "Useless against me," he gloated, his irritating chuckle tacked onto the end.

Gabriel knew this already. Sure he had the powers of the heavenly host going for him, but this guy, this Dark One, could see through anything. He'd seen through his invisibility obviously enough, so it had become clear that this was no one to mess with. "So, since you obviously stopped me for a a reason, and you seem to be my Kryptonite," Gabriel said, watching the Dark One pace around him like a vulture. "What would you have me do?"

There was that nasty grin of his again. "Oh, dearie, I do think I've got just the job for you."

* * *

"He's in good hands," Emma said as she walked into the hospital waiting room, where she saw the newcomer chewing anxiously on the end of a pen, a clipboard in his other hand. "Dr. Whale will fix him up like brand new." _Although he might have someone else's body parts, who knows?_ she thought sarcastically. "So I was hoping we could fill the time with those questions?"

The stranger turned his green eyes onto her, tapping the end of the pen against the board now, rather than having it stuck in his mouth. "I guess so," he shrugged. "But listen, lady, you have questions, we have questions." He cocked his eyebrows at her, feigning complete calm, as though she hadn't just walked in during a nervous habit. "Maybe we could do an info exchange."

This guy was smart, smarter than that pretty face let on. "Depends on the questions, but I'll bite," she said, sitting across the aisle from him and crossing her arms. "How about a name, for starters? I'll even go first; Emma Swan. See, it's easy as pie."

The man snorted, as though pie was funny to him for some reason. "Preston Whitmore," he said, glancing at her before returning to filling out his brother's paperwork on the clipboard.

Emma opened her mouth to ask his brothers name and continue their conversation, when Henry ran in the room and practically threw himself into the chair next to hers. "David says Mary Margaret is still in bed," he said, tossing his backpack into the next seat over. "I was gonna go hang out with Neal some more, but I wanted to meet these guys," he motioned toward "Preston." Emma had the feeling the guy was lying through his teeth about that name.

"Henry-"

"Hi," Henry said, now turned toward the man. He was smiling attractively back at her son, and she could see easily that this guy was completely used to charming most people. Good thing she wasn't most people. "I'm Henry. Don't mind my mom, she can be a bit intimidating when she's in cop mode," Henry joked.

"Eh, I don't mind it so much," Preston said with a kind grin. It was clear that he liked kids, that much was not a lie. He wasn't just putting on a fake smile, his kindness toward Henry was genuine. It warmed her toward him just a little. "Nice to meet you, Henry, I'm Preston Whitmore. You seem like a cool dude, maybe you can show me around town later. You know," he looked up at Emma with a smile, his eyebrows perked. "If she comes with. Don't want her thinking I'm a creep or anything."

Emma bit the inside of her lip to keep from grinning. This guy sure could lay on the charm, alright. "Surely," she said, giving a small nod. "We'll show you around a bit, since you're obviously gonna be here a while. Your brother isn't getting out of this place anytime soon, with those injuries."

"Milo," Preston said. "My brother - Milo Thatch." He was tapping the end of his pen against the board again. "Well, half brother. Obviously. Figured your next question was gonna be about him, right?"

"Maybe," she said, her lips turned up slightly at the corners. "Okay, Preston, what are you guys doing up here anyway? We don't get many tourists."

Preston shifted in his seat, trying to get more comfortable. "We're bloggers, actually. We investigate weird police cold cases and get the scoop about them from the source, then write it all up." He shrugged. "It's a labor of love, really. There ain't much money to be made in it."

All the warning bells were ringing in Emma's head from that line of crap, but she didn't betray it in her expression. She would get down to the truth eventually.

"Speaking of that, though," Preston continued, leaning forward, his elbows perched on his knees. "Our cold case happened to bring us to your quaint little town here."

"Oh really," Emma said, an eyebrow quirked in question. "Maybe I can help out."

"I sure hope so. Wouldn't want this trip to be a waste." He smiled charmingly at her. "So this kid, back in like, '83 or so, says he's camping with his dad up here in Maine. Strange electrical storm goes down, and in the morning, bam! They're smack in the middle of this town. Like someone 'dropped a town on 'em.'" Emma could tell that he was quoting some article or another.

"Sounds like a wild story," Emma said, nodding her head. Henry glanced at her out the corner of his eye.

"But wait, there's more," Preston said, his grin still present. Emma was slightly pleased to see that he was calmed down and distracted from the fact his brother was currently undergoing surgery. "So they meet the mayor, and the kid says she wants to keep him so much that when they go to leave the next day, she has his dad arrested. The kid runs away, gets to the next nearest town, but when he and the police return, there's nothing. No one ever heard of Storybrooke, it ain't on any maps, and the whole town just up and vanished."

Staring in disbelief at him, wondering how so much of that actually got out like that, Emma's head was reeling. She had no idea that something like that had happened. She decided to play the ignorance card. "Really? That's the story?" She laughed, a hollow, false chuckle. "Well, as you can see, the town _does_ actually exist, so-"

"But it's not on any maps."

"Excuse me?"

He stared at her as though he held a winning hand in poker, a smirk on his face. "Storybrooke. It's not on any map, anywhere. Not even Google." He cocked his eyebrows and pursed his lips. "We even asked for directions from the next town over. It's a bit far, but you'd think that someone would have known about Storybrooke and how to get here, right?"

"Unfortunately, I don't know anything about that, since I was a baby then, and I haven't heard about it," Emma said, eyebrows furrowed. She made a mental note to ask Regina about it the next chance she got. "Sorry I can't be more help."

"No worries. I'll just ask around, see what I can dig up."

Standing up, Emma nodded distractedly. She was going to have to do some serious damage control while these brothers were in town. And where was that third guy? "I suggest finding your friend and getting a room at Granny's inn when I come back, okay? Dr. Whale's gonna call me when surgery is done, and then we can give you that tour." She looked at her son. "Right, Henry?"

"Yeah, and we can get some cocoa at the diner," Henry said in a friendly tone. "See you."

"Yeah, see ya then, kid," Preston replied, and then mother and son left the room.

When they were in the elevator, Henry spoke up. "I like him, but those names were fake."

Startled, Emma looked down at him. "What makes you say that? I mean, my 'super power' was going off like crazy, but how did you-"

"The names were easy," Henry said, a proud smile up at his mom. "Milo Thatch and Preston Whitmore are characters from Disney's _Atlantis_."

* * *

"A job," Gabriel repeated, looking incredulously at the Dark One. He was still doing that irritating pace in front of the crackling fire, and there was nothing Gabriel would have liked more than to crack him over the head with a baseball bat.

"One of great importance. You, my angelic amigo, are going to go into another world for me, since I am unable to leave here for lengthy stays," the slimy man said, one of his annoying chuckles at the end. "I am in search of my son, and it seems as though a treasure hunter has fallen right into my lap."

Gabriel squinted his eyes at him. "Excuse me?"

"You know how to fly... Under the radar, I think the term is where you're from. I don't know exactly which world he's currently in, so you're going to stake them out one by one until he's found."

"Sounds thrilling."

"I don't care how you do it, Wingy, but you're going to do it."

"And I have zero choice in the matter."

"Ah- bingo." The Dark One put a fingertip to his nose, then lowered it again.

"And how exactly am I supposed to do this?"

"Well, I noticed you have a thing for candy, dearie. I'm sure tracking down children should be a piece of cake."

A faint inkling of an idea started to form in Gabriel's mind. "Aw, come on, really?"

"Rumplestiltskin does not joke."

"Your penchant for puns would suggest otherwise."

The Dark One smirked grimly at him. "You think you're above me because you're an angel. Well, you aren't the one _holding all the cards now, are you_?" He steadily grew louder with every word until he was shouting. He quieted down to continue, "If you do not do this, I will tell your holy brethren where you are! I have the feeling that's something you wouldn't want, am I right, dearie?"

This shut Gabriel right up. He was right on the money. And he doubted that this Rumplestiltskin was bluffing. He paused, mulling everything over in his head. After a long, agonizing pause, he finally came to a conclusion.

"_Fine_."

* * *

**Authors' note:**

**Hello again darlings! Another chapter is here! Not as long as the last one, and it certainly took longer, and we apologize for that, but come on, we're busy people! Thank you for being so patient with us!**

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FOLLOWING AND FAVORITING! EVERY EMAIL NOTIFICATION PUTS BIG GRINS ON OUR FACES!**

**We're going to be adding a Chapter Song at the end of each new addition from now on (and adding them onto previous chapters, so check those out!) so it will effectively act as the story soundtrack! Huzzah music!**

**Disclaimer: WE OWNETH NOT THE THINGS. **

**Chapter Song: Liar (It Takes One To Know One) by Taking Back Sunday**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**The Devil You Know**

_Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam._

Ugh, what the hell is that?

_Sammy. Sammy. Sammy. Sammy._

Seriously?

_Moose. Moose. Moose. Moose._

Jesus Christ. Fine, I'll open my freaking eyes.

"_Sasquatch. Sasquatch. Sasquatch_- Oh hey! Sleeping Beauty has finally opened his pretty peepers!"

Sam squinted against the harsh white light of the room, made all the more painful by the boring paint scheme and the irritating voice rattling around in his head. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn that voice had belonged to-

"Saaaaaaaaamy," Lucifer said, wiggling his fingers and getting Sam's attention. Sam jumped where he lay and scrambled as well as he could to the side of the bed furthest from the man currently seated in the visitor's chair. As though someone flicked a switch, the room was suddenly thrown into a negative version of itself; dingy, dirty, chains and meat hooks dangling from the ceiling. All the while, Lucifer sat pleasantly in his chair, grinning wickedly. "Hi, Sam. Long time, no spooning."

Terror was written clearly all over Sam's face, and his hand gripped the hospital bed rail tightly. He wished he could sit up better than he could, but his middle was bandaged and extremely sore, making it difficult to even just lean forward. He was still far too close to him for comfort. "You're not here. You're in Hell."

A smirk was the response. "Now, that you're right on."

Sam's eyes darted around the room before stopping again on Lucifer. "Meat hooks... Chains... You. It's not real," he gasped desperately. "It's just my brain leaking memories from the cage 'cause of the wall breaking down. That's all."

Lucifer made a fake pout at him. "Hmm. That's very good, your little theory." His expression evolved into a smirk. "But it's wrong. Sam, this isn't you going guano." The smirk grew more wicked. "Everything else is."

Staring back in disbelief, Sam whispered a hollow, "What?"

Lucifer waved his hand absently at the surroundings. "Everything... From the second you sprung out of that lock box."

Sam shook his head slIghtly. "That's impossible."

"No," Lucifer said, his eyebrows furrowed, looking at Sam with an expression of pity. "Escaping was impossible." He smiled evilly at him again. "I have to say, I think this is my best torture yet - make you believe that you're free and then..." He made a snatching movement in the air with his hand. "Yank the wool off of your eyes. You never left, Sam. You're still in the cage..." _That damned grin._ "With me."

Sam's heart was beating a mile a minute, and his hand gripped the bed rail as hard as he could. He couldn't pull his eyes away from the terror of hell that sat before him. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry.

"Oh good, you're awake," a female voice said from the vicinity of the doorway.

Suddenly the room was back to normal, as if Satan himself hadn't just been seated in that very chair. Sam blinked, and he watched the woman come into the room anxiously.

"You're in the hospital," she said in answer to his unasked question. He had actually been watching for Lucifer to pop up randomly again, but luckily it didn't seem he was going to. "My name is Dorothy, and I'm a volunteer here. I'm here to make your stay comfortable."

He now dropped his eyes to look at her, as he'd been taking in the room, expecting for the bastard to reappear. She was cute, really pretty actually, with brown hair tied into a loose ponytail, and blue eyes. "Uh, hi," he said awkwardly.

"Now, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask, okay? I'm here to get you food, water, whatever," Dorothy said, a smile on her face.

_Can you make Lucifer go away?_ Somehow he didn't think that question would fly very smoothly. He was still reeling from what Lucifer said; was he really still in hell and _this_ was all a dream?

* * *

The front of the pawn shop looked just as innocent as every other building in this town, but there was something about it that had drawn Castiel to it. He'd investigated what magic he had been able to, which wasn't much, as the spell on this place was very adept at hiding itself apparently, and after recognizing a signature deep within the magic, he'd followed it here. _Mr. Gold Pawnbroker_.

The feeling he could not shake was that he'd encountered this particular signature before. He could not figure out why the sensation of it seemed so familiar to him, but he was determined to find out.

A bell sounded above the door as Castiel walked inside, and he was taken aback by the sheer amount of magical items all over the shop. It was like a cornucopia of enchanted wares. He clenched his jaw as he turned to look at the various objects in the room; a couple of puppets on the counter, a rack of decorative pieces of wood that were more than likely magic wands, a pair of ruby slippers, and a good assortment of swords were among the throng.

It was when he turned around again that a man came through a curtain that separated the back of the shop from the actual retail area. This was the man who had his "scent" all over this town, his magical signature. And suddenly it became clear to Castiel why the aura had seemed so familiar to him.

"Rumplestiltskin," he said, his voice low and dark.

* * *

This Dorothy girl was not hard to like, and Sam found himself grinning more than he had in a long time. In fact, she was so likable that somehow he'd forgotten about the strange vision of Lucifer he'd seen earlier. Until he was left alone, that is.

Dorothy had to leave to help out with other patients, so Sam busied himself with a book of Sudoku puzzles that she'd left for him. He was halfway through a level four puzzle when there was an arm thrown around his neck from behind the bed.

Struggling against the strong grasp, he whimpered as Lucifer came out from behind the bed, his hand still clutching Sam's throat. Sam let out a cough, growling the words, "You're not real."

This vision of Lucifer (Sam refused to believe anything that this guy told him until he saw proof) made a face to convey pity at the waylaid Winchester. "Right. You think this fruit-bat fever dream is reality? You come back, I'm sorry, with no soul like some peppy American Psycho, till Saint Dean glues you back together again by buying you some magic amnesia. You're real. I'm very real. Everything between is what we call set dressing."

"No." One word, simple enough, with all the venom Sam could muster.

A smirk immediately curled Lucifer's lips, barely visible in the corner of Sam's eye. "You're still in my cell. You're my bunkmate, buddy. You're my little bitch, in every sense of the term."

"Sam?"

He continued to try to shrink away from this hallucination Lucifer, very poorly considering the stitches on his body and arms.

"Sam! You hearing me?" Dean hit his hand against his brother's chest, shaking him to try waking him from whatever nightmare was going on in there. "Sam!"

The younger Winchester suddenly opened his eyes, darting up in his bed the best he could with a bandaged midsection, looking around the room as though something was going to kill him. Dean, in response to his brothers sudden movement, stepped back to avoid getting whacked in the face by the flailing Sasquatch, who was also muttering quite loudly about Lucifer.

"Whoa. Look at me," the elder brother coaxed, his eyebrows creased with concern. "Hey... All right, we got to button this up..." he calmed him, finally getting Sam to stop his loud moans. When he was sure Sam was completely lucid again, Dean relaxed into the visitor's chair. "You done, Linda Blair?"

Sam stared back at him in disbelief. "I'm not possessed, jerk."

"Well, you're sure acting like it, bitch," Dean replied in a teasing tone, although Sam could hear the concern hidden in it. "Anyway, it's good to see you awake. You've been out for hours."

"Actually, I've been talking to my caretaker for at least an hour now, Dean," Sam pointed out.

"You sly dog, you," Dean joked.

"Shut up. What have you been doing other than not noticing I was awake?"

Dean shrugged and sat back in the chair. "I took care of the initial police shit, for starters. By the way, you did remember the aliases we agreed on, right?"

"Yes, Preston," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"Good. Moving on, I'll be going out on a tour later with the Sheriff whenever she gets here, her kid wanted to show me around a bit."

"And you're gonna ask the people around town about the weird thing, right?"

Dean gave him a bitch-face in response. "No, I was just gonna play tourist the whole time. What am I, a moron?"

"It could be debated," Sam smirked.

"Ha ha," Dean said, his turn to roll his eyes.

"Knock knock," came a voice at the door, accompanied by a tapping of knuckles on the doorframe. Dean turned in his chair, while Sam raised his eyes to see Emma stroll in. "Sorry to interrupt, but Henry is anxious, he's out in the waiting room, and-"

She stopped as she was looking at the younger Winchester, and Dean noticed her eyebrows furrow as she took him in. "I'm sorry, have we met?" She took a step closer to where he lay. "You look familiar, but I can't place..."

Now it was Sam's turn to look confused. "Uh, I don't think so?" He answered, but he started to really take her in, trying to figure out where he might know her from. "I mean, I'm pretty good with faces, but-"

Watching the exchange, Dean just bit his lip, not wanting to stem the flow of their conversation, but silently praying that she didn't actually know him. He noticed the look of realization cross Emma's face the second she thought she knew who his brother was. "Sam Winchester?"

Well, crap.

"Uh..." Sam looked to Dean, not knowing what was happening. "No, my name is Milo Tha-"

"Oh, can it, I know you Disney movie'd those names, okay?" Her eyebrows were creased in growing disbelief and anger at the brothers. "You don't remember me, do you," she said, clearly speaking to Sam at this point, her hand placed on her hip in a challenging manner. "High school, freshman year? You were only there for a semester, but we were friends."

Something about that attitude must have made something click in Sam's memory, because suddenly an expression of recognition came over his face. "Emma? Emma Swan?"

"Oh great, you know each other?" Dean groaned, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "That's what we need, a friggin' high school reunion."

"But... What are you doing here?" Sam asked, ignoring his brother efficiently. Dean just huffed and watched their carefully concocted story fall apart as the conversation continued.

"I should be asking you, seeing as I'm the sheriff here," Emma said, raising an eyebrow at the bedridden Winchester. "And not any of this bull about being a blogger. I know for a fact that you would have never stooped to that, not with your dad being a big game hunter." She dragged another chair over. "Go on. I've got time. Oh, and I'll be able to tell if you're lying, so..." She shrugged and sat back, donning the same pose as Dean, but with an expression of disappointed expectancy.

With a sigh, Sam looked to Dean. "God damn it," Dean groaned, rubbing a hand across his eyes. "Fine. Fine. She's got us by the short and curlies." He looked at Emma, pointing at her with his eyebrows furrowed. "But it ain't our fault if you don't believe us." He nodded at Sam. "Go ahead, Sammy. I'm gonna go talk to the pipsqueak." Emma was about to protest when Dean cut her off. "He's gotta know anyway, right? I'll give him the kid-friendly version."

As Dean walked out the door, Emma turned to Sam with a questioning look on her face. "Kid-friendly?" She sighed, then settled herself in for story time. "I'm guessing this story might take a while. And here all I was prepared for was taking your brother for a tour."

"Yeah, it's a bit... On the long side," Sam said with a nervous chuckle.

A summary of the past few years threw Emma for a loop. She'd expected something ridiculous, like they had planned on stealing something from the mystical vanishing city of Storybrooke or something, but she got something far more intense than anything she could imagine. Sam talked about demons, ghosts, werewolves, and vampires. Angels. Michael. Lucifer. Purgatory. It was terrifying.

And not a single word set off her mental warning bells.

"So..." Sam said, looking at her and waiting for a verdict.

"So." Emma was dumbfounded. Here she was thinking she was having one hell of a year with fairy tales and creatures being real, and these boys were out fighting demons and angels on an almost daily basis. And they just wanted to know about the town, right? Nothing weird and freaky, and besides, she didn't know anything about the boy and his dad. "I guess it's only fair for me to tell you about Storybrooke-"

"Emma!"

Turning to see Henry racing into the room and throwing himself in the empty chair, Emma bit her lip. "How'd it go?" She asked her son, giving him a little smile.

"Great! These guys are heroes, you know?" Henry beamed. "So lets go take the tour, already! Dean said he'd buy us dinner!"

"I did say that," Dean pointed out from where he leaned on the doorframe.

"Bookmark this conversation?" Emma asked Sam, standing from the uncomfortable visitor's chair and giving a tiny stretch to her back. She patted Sam's unbandaged arm, gave him a weak smile, then turned toward the other two. "I'll send Dorothy up."

* * *

**Chapter Song: The Devil Inside by INXS**

**Authors' Note: HELLO AGAIN LOVELIES! It's been a while since our last update, but finally, IT ARRIVES! I hope it doesn't feel too rushed... But GASP! EMMA AND SAM KNOW EACH OTHER! So our sheriff knows all about our boys and their hunter lives, but what about the secrets Storybrooke holds? Will they learn it from her or will they have to discover the story on their own? AND YES, THE MYSTERIES SURROUNDING RUMP AND CAS AND GABRIEL KEEP GROWING! And yes, the dialogue between Lucifer and Sam IS the exact lines from 7.01. Carry on.**

**Anyway, we hope you enjoyed our latest chapter. We already have the next started, but as we work out kinks in our plot and in our real lives, please do be patient. We love every one of you! Favorites, reviews, comments, kudos, EVERYTHING MAKES US FEEL SO GOOD! 3 Peace out, bitches!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Frowned Upon In Most Societies**

"Rumpelstiltskin."

The man looked up as he came through the curtain, pausing at the sight of the trench coated visitor. His face split into a grin. "Ah." He pursed his lips and studied the angel, an eyebrow quirked. "Castiel. Pleasure meeting you again." Mr. Gold took a step towards one of the display cases. "What purpose do you have here in Storybrooke, I wonder?"

Castiel squinted at the man, as was his habit to do when he was confronted with a curiosity. "I would wonder the same thing. Last we met you were in the Enchanted Forest."

Mr. Gold chuckled. "That I was, dearie. And as I recall, you were in quite a spot of trouble. How did that pan out for you?"

His eyebrows furrowed at the question. He was not there to talk about himself. "It is in progress, but I do not see how it is any of your business."

"So time has passed very differently for you than it has for me, then," Gold surmised. "That was centuries ago, my friend. And for you, what... Mere weeks?" The angel remained silent. "But still, I am curious as to why you are here now."

"I am helping my friends investigate this town. A case that seemed to be in their realm of expertise. Clearly it is otherwise if you are involved."

"And why is that?"

"Your magic comes from another world. They are not equipped to deal with your measure of magic."

"They deal with magic on a regular basis?" Gold asked, growing more curious about these "friends" of his.

"Like I said, yours is not the likes of any they've seen." Castiel sighed. "I must go tell them of what I have learned.

"On the contrary," Gold said, stepping closer to the angel. "You're not going anywhere." He nodded subtly toward the door and Castiel watched as an angel warding symbol carved itself into the wood. "I believe it's best that the outsiders don't learn about us. Don't make me get the holy oil, Castiel." He made his way to the door, opening it and turning back to face the now trapped angel. "Now stay here, I've an errand to run." And with that, the door closed, leaving Castiel alone in the shop.

* * *

Standing silently in the large factory and taking in the sweet scent, Gabriel watched as candy bars went rolling down the many conveyor belts to where those in his employ were wrapping them up in an excellent rhythm. A smile appeared on the angel's face as he turned and snapped his fingers at one of the bars as it rode past.

After this display, there lay what appeared to be a golden sheet of paper laying on top of the delicacy. The smile grew wider as the angel snapped at a few more candies, making more of the papers appear.

"Alright, boys, you know the drill. Wrap 'em up!" he said, giving a little twirl of his finger in the air. He chuckled to himself; his plan was finally, after many years of work, coming together perfectly.

Another chuckle, which was more of a giddy laugh, joined his. Gabriel turned, startled, to see Rumpelstiltskin sitting on a nonfunctional conveyor belt a few rows down. With a defeated sigh, he walked over to see what the Dark One had to say.

"Having fun, are we dearie?" The scaly man asked as he leaped off his makeshift seat.

"I am, but I'm also doing that which you have told me."

"I'm not so certain of that!" Rumpelstiltskin said. "Surely it doesn't take years in order to look through this world!"

It was not often that the Dark One was ignorant of what was going on, to which Gabriel let out a small laugh at his employer.

"On the contrary, I have made myself well known in this world so I may do my search; part of my master plan, you see." He flicked his wrist, and a golden ticket appeared in his hand, pinched between his thumb and forefinger in display for the Dark One to see. "Make the children come to me. One of these five golden tickets is enchanted to find Baelfire - should he be in this world. If he isn't, it will go to the child who needs it most." Another flamboyant wave and the ticket vanished. "Besides, if I take too long, lucky me, I can just go back in time again to start on the next realm."

"You do have a point," Rumpelstiltskin said, raising an eyebrow. "This plan is quite intriguing," he continued, pacing the area between the conveyor belts. "Alright then, carry on. But I will be waiting to hear of your progress." With that, the Dark One vanished, leaving Gabriel alone with his workers.

A sigh escaped Gabriel's lips, and then he grinned out at the factory, watching his little minions do as they always had since he'd created them. "You know you only exist because you're in the book, right?" He asked to no one in particular, the nearest of the small people giving him a confused look before going back to work. "Of course you don't," he grumbled, flopping down onto the conveyor belt the Dark One had just vacated. "I wonder... Did I copy the book, or did the book copy me? Chicken or the egg, huh, my little Oompa Loompas?"

* * *

The looks the natives were giving Dean were starting to freak him out, and he had a tough hide. "They always this friendly?" He grumbled, hiking a thumb at a grumpy guy as he walked the other direction past them as they headed toward the local diner.

Emma smiled and rolled her eyes. "They aren't used to outsiders."

Turning toward her as they walked, Dean quirked an eyebrow at her. "And why is that?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but Henry spoke instead, "Hey, why don't we go get some candy?" He asked as they stepped in front of a storefront touting sugary treats. The sign that swung above the sidewalk read _Sugar Rush._

"We're on our way to have dinner-" Emma started to protest, before Dean went ahead and veered into the candy shop. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes yet again, she followed, noticing the grin on her son's face. "You're still going to clear your plate at Granny's, you hear me?"

"Mom, I always eat everything," Henry laughed as the bell above the door tinkled at their entrance.

No one was immediately in sight when they walked in; a sign on the counter said "Be right back!" so the trio started to look around at the gigantic assortment of sweets. Jars filled with gum balls, lollipops, taffy, gummies, anything they could think of. One wall had a row of containers with spouts at the bottom, filled with each color M&M, and a large assortment of giant candy bars on shelves. "I love this place," Henry said.

"I can see why," Dean chuckled.

The adults turned toward the door in the back of the room when it swung open, a short man laden with a stack of boxes coming through backwards. The tower of boxes he held was tall, and when he turned toward them, his face was obscured. "Just a sec, I'll be right with you," he said, muffled by the cardboard in his face.

"No problem," Emma said, a glance at Dean hiding a smirk on her lips. Dean grinned back, secretly harboring a wish that he would topple over and the boxes would fall. It was twisted, what he found amusing, but whatever, he couldn't help it.

The man disappeared behind one of the counters that was laden with display boxes, bending down to set the boxes in front of their corresponding shelf. After that was taken care of, he straightened up again, hit his hands together as though he was dusting them off, and muttered, "There we go," before turning to face the hunter and sheriff.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean sputtered, unable to refrain the exclamation as he recognized the candy man.

"Oh crap," Gabriel said, his shoulders slumping.

* * *

The history between Castiel and Rumpelstiltskin started, just as the Dark One has said, "centuries ago, but mere weeks." Castiel had been in a bind, as he was working in secret with Crowley to find a way to open Purgatory, but hiding it from Dean and Sam. In an attempt to justify his actions, he had gone to a quiet, hidden place to pray to God, tell him of all his sins, plans, and to ask for a hint of what to do next. He had gone to the Enchanted Forest, a place where solitude was easy to find.

"So, that's everything. I believe it's what you would call a...Tragedy from the human perspective. But maybe the human perspective is...Limited. I don't know. That's why I'm asking you, Father. One last time. Am I doing the right thing? Am I on the right path? You have to tell me. You have to give me...A sign. Give me a sign. Because if you don't...I'm gonna ju- I'm gonna do whatever I... Whatever I must."

"What a lovely sentiment," a giddy voice rang out behind him.

Standing, Castiel turned to see a man with dark, mottled looking skin wearing a dark set of clothing, his eyes unnatural and terrifying. "Who are you?"

"Me?" The dark one placed a hand to his chest, a chuckle escaping his throat. "I am the Dark One, dearie. Rumpelstiltskin's the name, and deals are my game."

Eyes narrowing at the stranger, Castiel frowned. Sounded like a crossroads demon to him, but this man was definitely not a demon. He was far too powerful, Castiel could feel it radiating off of him. "What did you mean, a 'lovely sentiment?'"

"Only that your prayers go unheard, m'boy. There is no God here." Rumpelstiltskin traipsed forward. "But there is me. And it sounds to me as though you're looking for something. An answer to your problems."

Castiel's eyes widened. "Can you help me? Do you know a way to do this? Because I must say I am at a loss as to-"

"Unfortunately," Rumpelstiltskin cut him off, "that is outside even my range of ability, dearie." He made a false pout at him, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly. "So sorry. But!" He held up a finger, a wicked grin on his face. "It seems to me as though listening to your pathetic little prayer to your 'father' was quite a waste of my time!"

"I never asked for you to-"

"Ah, but ya did! And I quote; 'Can you help me? Do you know a way to do this?'" He stared hard at the angel. "Now don't go weaseling out of that one. It's all there, don't you agree?"

Castiel was dumbfounded. This Dark One had tricked him into asking his help. And he had nothing to show for it. "And now you ask that I pay for your time."

"That does sum it up rather nicely," Rumpelstiltskin grinned.

* * *

"Wait, you know Gabe?" Henry asked Dean, confusion etched in the crease of his eyebrows. "That's... not possible. He's been stuck here like the others for-"

"Henry," Emma warned, not ready to go spilling all the town's secrets just yet.

"What the hell?" Dean asked, staring at the archangel incredulously. "We thought you were dead!"

Gabriel chuckled nervously. "Well, plot twist: I'm not."

"But what are you _doing_ here?" Dean continued, slamming a hand on the counter as emphasis.

"Really, is that sort of thing necessary?" A new voice, an almost chilling female voice, sounded from the entrance as the overhead bell tinkled to sound her entrance.

Startled by the newcomer, Dean turned and placed a hand on one of his concealed weapons. This whole town was really starting to put him on edge. First, some girl Sammy knew was here, and now Gabriel? What next, Castiel knows the mayor? "Who's asking?" He snarled, unaware of just how powerful the woman he spoke to was.

Henry looked at Dean sheepishly. "That's my mom."

Dean raised a confused eyebrow. "I thought Emma-"

"She's his birth mother. I adopted him," the woman in the door stated, stepping further into the shop. "Though I don't see how that is any of your business."

"Regina, please," Emma said, a warning tone in her voice.

"What?" She asked, looking at Emma with a glance before her eyes bored into Dean. "I'm here in good faith. Just... Offering a bit of good advice to our visitor." She grinned at Dean, and he could see the malice hidden in those red lips. "The second I heard that we had some new blood in town, I knew I just had to seek you out." She held a hand out to the hunter, and he took it coldly. "Regina Mills, mayor. I suggest you and your brother keep your noses clean and move along as soon as possible, you understand?"

"Mom..." Henry groaned.

The hard grip of the woman gave Dean a boost of motivation to solve this cold case of his dad's. And from what he could recall, the article mentioned the boy escaping the mayor. He squinted his eyes at the woman. "Well, Miss Mills, I'm sure we won't have any problems."

The mayor smirked at the hunter. "We will see about that." One last look around the room and just a nod of acknowledgement to Gabriel's existence, then she left the store.

First glancing at Henry, then Emma, and finally resting on the trickster angel, Dean gave a heavy sigh. "So who's going to tell me what's going on around here?"

Gabriel stared at the counter top, then at the boxes he had abandoned in front of the shelf he now stood beside. "I'll meet you and Sam at the hospital in an hour," he relented.

* * *

Left alone once again, Sam was anxious. He kept expecting his unwelcome Hallucifer to make an appearance; luckily so far, none had come. It was twenty full minutes after Dean had left with Emma and her son that he noticed the large, leather-bound tome that sat in the visitor's chair. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but Sam could not resist; he leaned over as well as he could with his bandages, and picked up the heavy book, careful not to drop the note that lay on top of it.

The piece of paper that lay atop the book had a kid's writing on it, reading, "_Sam, read this. You guys need to know the people here in town. -Henry_"

A chuckle left Sam's lips, a small smile at the kid on his face. An eyebrow raised when he took a look at the book's cover. _Once Upon A Time_. "Really, kid?" he said to the empty room, and he opened to a random page.

As he started thumbing through, he noticed that the stories inside were ones with which he was familiar, but twisted in ways he never could have seen coming. Little Red Riding Hood was actually a werewolf? These tales took things to all new heights. Did Henry actually believe these stories were about the people in this town? Sam started to feel sorry for him, so lost in fairy tales like that.

After a half hour of browsing through it, he looked up at the entrance of Emma and Henry, with no Dean in sight. "Where is Dean?" He asked, closing the book and setting it aside.

Emma slowed as she recognized the book. "Henry, Regina is going to kill us," she said.

"What?" Sam asked, completely confused. In a more frustrated tone he repeated himself. "Where's Dean?"

"Don't get your panties in a bunch," Emma said as she sat in one of the chairs. "He's just going to check you guys into a room at Granny's Inn, and he'll head back here." She looked at the book again. "So, what do you think of the book?"

"It's... Interesting," he said, an eyebrow raised. "But you can't possibly believe that this stuff is real, right?"

Emma and Henry exchanged a glance. "Well..."

* * *

The check in process was simple, and Dean had done it so many times, he didn't see how this would be different. He got the key and decided to stop in the diner to grab the promised food that they'd forgone in the resurgence of Gabriel, then with bag of burgers (and pie) in hand, he started back toward the hospital. He'd had every intention of making it all the way back, when he noticed a woman, short black hair, dressed in white, nervously checking her surroundings as she headed off into the woods. That didn't seem like it should be a normal occurrence.

Curiosity was just too great in this case, and Dean abandoned the burgers, handing them off to a man without giving him a second look. "Here, enjoy," he said quickly, then immediately went into stealth mode as he followed the mystery woman into the trees.

* * *

**Chapter song: People Are Strange by The Doors**

**Author's note: Hello again! I'm glad to see that you guys are enjoying, and we would love to hear from you guys! Reviews help us, they really truly do. And if you review with questions, we will answer! Like... this one!**

Monshroud: "Why would Magic suppress Castiel's powers? If anything, all that Magic should empower any supernatural being or force." **It's the fact that the magic isn't from our world. Angelic magic is very different than the magic found in places like the Enchanted Forest, so it has an adverse affect on his powers.**

**Alright, we hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and we're getting to work on chapter 6 very very soon!**


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